


I'm Not as Chill as I Seem

by benjji2795



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Chowder/Farmer is also mentioned, Derek Nurse is not chill, M/M, Sickfic, Summer Fic, it's more of an injury fic lol, sorta - Freeform, there's also Zimbits because I'm trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6343012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benjji2795/pseuds/benjji2795
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The next message Lardo sends him is Dex’s address.  Derek quickly copies it into Google Maps and slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and races down to the garage, picking out the least ostentatious car they have (which is, ugh, a </em>Lexus<em>) and speeding off on the nearly seven and a half hour drive, before he can convince himself that this is a terrible idea.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not as Chill as I Seem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devisama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devisama/gifts).



> This work is gifted to Devisama, because without her, I would still be stuck somewhere towards the beginning of this fic. She let me walk through the plot I had in mind, and helped me fill in a lot of the details that I was struggling to come up with. 333>
> 
> Just an interesting note, this surpasses the longest thing I've written for a single posting (multichapter update or otherwise) by nearly 1000 words (the next closest being _[What Happens in Vegas...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6259111) _). :)__
> 
> The title is an adaptation of the lyrics from _[Morningside](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2HGVcnWMMc)_ by Sara Bareilles.

Derek has never liked summer.  Starting right from when he was a little boy, and ever since, even in this, his first summer in between years of college, summer has never been fun.  At first, summer was being trapped in a big empty house away from his friends and being ignored by everyone except Ruth, their elderly housekeeper.  And when he was at Andover, summer was simply a season, the months usually given to kids as time to be free from all responsibilities given over instead to hours spent baking in blisteringly hot classrooms.  And now that he’s at Samwell, its back to the way it was before, except now Ruth is long dead and gone, and the new housekeeper, Patty, scowls wordlessly at him every time he emerges from his room.

 

But missing his friends now is nothing like it was when he was little, because his friends now are more like family to him.  Missing his friends now means having a constant, ever-present dull ache in his chest.  He misses Chowder and his infectious energy, Bitty and his pies, Ransom and Holster and their crazy antics, Shitty and his flow and feminist rants, and Jack and his awkward hockey-robot personality.

 

And then there was Dex, the boy Derek missed the most of all; Dex, with his brilliant ginger hair and his amber eyes that matched his flaming temper.  Derek had spent the entirety of first semester fighting with him, poking at him and riling him up, because there was something about Dex that made it impossible for Derek to stay completely chill.

 

It was somewhere around winter break that Derek realized why that was.  He liked Dex, much more than just his d-man partner, much more than someone he was sorta frenemies with.  And so he stopped fighting with the other boy so much, because Derek didn’t want them to be frenemies, he wanted them to just be friends.

 

Derek toned it down, and they still bickered, but it was something playful, light-hearted and suddenly they weren’t just friends, they were best friends.  They did homework together, hung out during Haus parties; they did things that were simple and fun, things that drew them closer together.

 

And so Derek’s crush grew, but he managed, and he and Dex grew used to each other, but Derek didn’t realize just how used to it he was until summer came, and they said goodbye, parting ways for nearly three months.  Derek had gotten so used to turning to Dex for everything, that when summer came, and he turned, but Dex wasn’t there, it felt like a giant part of himself was suddenly missing.

 

But Derek promised himself he’d be chill about it.  He wasn’t going to text Dex every minute of the day, like some super clingy not-even-boyfriend.  He didn’t push, didn’t start conversations, and Dex didn’t much either, though he said that was because there was no cell reception on a boat in the middle of the open ocean.  But they didn’t talk, and Derek ached.

 

Something Derek learned about himself over those first few weeks was that he could promise himself he’d be chill all he wanted, but he was too weak to refrain from stalking Dex—through social media.  Dex had never given out any of his social medias to the team, keeping his communications with them limited to purely through text.  But Derek reasoned that he never told them they couldn’t find them, so he scoured the internet for them.  William J. Poindexter’s Facebook page had no privacy settings to it at all, so Derek could scroll through at will, and after a few other searches Derek is less than proud of, he managed to also come up with his Twitter, Instagram, and shockingly, his Tumblr.  And maybe he’s also less than proud that this is what he’s come to, because this is probably worse than clingy, constantly texting not-even-boyfriend.

 

Dex’s social medias are constantly updated, because apparently even though Dex has no cell reception on the boat, he has internet, something he has no explanation for, but something he’s not complaining about either.  So that’s how Derek ends up keeping tabs on what and how his best friend is doing.

 

And that’s how he spends his summer.  Texting with the Samwell guys, binge watching TV, and stalking Dex.

* * *

 

His first texts from Dex since the end of the school year don’t even come until July 31st.

 

 **_Dex:_ ** _Strained my back on the boat_

 **_Dex:_ ** _Can’t work for the rest of the summer_

 **_Dex:_ ** _Ugh_

 

Derek tries really hard not to make his first thought about that information be that Dex will be able to text him for the rest of the summer, and fails spectacularly.  He also fails at not texting back suspiciously quickly, firing back two texts in a matter of seconds.

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _That really sucks man_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _Does it hurt much?_

 

Dex, surprisingly, texts back almost as quickly as Derek had.

 

 **_Dex:_ ** _Not really_

 **_Dex:_ ** _Just enough to be annoying I guess_

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _Got anyone there with you?_

 

He asks because he’s has had his fair share of injuries, and though they were all hockey-related, he imagines it’s the same for injuries suffered anywhere else.  When you’re injured, it’s damn near impossible to take care of yourself.

 

Derek frowns at the next texts that come in.

 

 **_Dex:_ ** _Nah, it’s just me_

 **_Dex:_ ** _But I’ll be fine_

 **_Dex:_ ** _It’s really not that bad_

 

That’s exactly the sort of thing Derek would expect Dex to say about his injury, because to Dex, admitting that his back really hurts would mean admitting that he needs help, and he just doesn’t do that, because he’s a stubborn ass.  Still, Derek has nothing he can really use to call Dex out on his bullshit, so he’ll just have to wait it out.

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _Okay man.  Keep me updated._

 

What he’ll do then is he’ll just keep a close eye on Dex’s social medias.  Maybe Dex will post some more useful information on Twitter or Tumblr or something.

* * *

 

Dex doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t post anything until around noon the next day.  But what he does eventually post has Derek scrambling.

 

**@poindexterwj24: man this fucking sucks**

**@poindexterwj24: my back hurts sm.  fml**

 

Derek shakes his head, a decision made in seconds as he hurriedly exits his room to find a duffel bag to shove some clothes in.  He’s honestly a little disappointed that Dex doesn’t trust him enough to be honest about how badly he’s hurt, but at the same time, he’s really not surprised; it’s just who Dex is.

 

But his mind is made up.  Whether Dex thinks he needs help or not, he’s going to be getting it.  Derek is bored out of his mind in New York, with no friends to visit and no responsibilities to speak of.  No one here is going to miss him if he leaves and goes to Maine for—well, for however long he can convince Dex to let him stay.  And besides, this provides him with a perfect, ironclad reason for him to visit his best friend who he misses like hell.

 

There’s only one problem.  He doesn’t know where Dex lives, exactly.  He knows what town Dex lives in, but he doesn’t know his address, and if he asks Dex, he’s not going to get anything.  Dex won’t give it to him, because Dex won’t want him to come.  But he does know someone who has Dex’s address that he can probably convince to give it to him.

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _What’s Dex’s address?_

**_Lardo:_ ** _…_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _Why do you need to know?_

**_Nursey:_ ** _Dex hurt his back fishing_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _He’s home by himself_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _And he’s not being truthful about how much it hurts_

**_Lardo:_ ** _You know he’s not being truthful…how?_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _Never mind, that’s not important_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _But you’re telling me that you’re going to drive to his house_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _Specifically for the purpose of taking care of him_

 

Derek’s face is burning up, and honestly, he’s very glad that this conversation is taking place over text, and not face-to-face.

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _Yes_

**_Lardo:_ ** _He’s going to pissed when you show up_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _Especially when he finds out why_

 

And yeah, sure, Derek knows he’ll be pissed.  But the truth is he’s counting on that, because he needs Dex to be distracted so that he doesn’t think too hard about the fact that Derek drove to Maine because Dex hurt himself.

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _I kno he will_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _But I don’t want him to hurt himself worse trying to act like he’s fine_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _U kno he’ll do that_

**_Lardo:_ ** _Not sure that’s your problem tho_

**_Nursey:_ ** _Hockey practices will b starting up soon_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _So of course it’s my problem_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _I don’t want to be without my partner bc he’s an idiot_

**_Lardo:_ ** _Okay but…_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _What ur talking about doing is r &h level shit_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _And I kno u and dex are closer now_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _But last I checked, ur still not on a r &h level_

**_Nursey:_ ** _Lecture me about how its not us if u want_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _But idc_

**_Lardo:_ ** _Okay…_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _and you *honestly* have no other motive for going up there?_

 

And Derek can’t lie to Lardo, not really.  This entire conversation has pretty much proved that she sees right through him.  So he lies, but in a way that she’ll know that he is.

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _…_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _no_

**_Lardo:_ ** _Hmm_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _That’s what I thought_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _Fine, I’ll give you his address_

 **_Lardo:_ ** _But I’m not responsible if he kills u for showing up_

**_Nursey:_ ** _Noted_

 

The next message Lardo sends him is Dex’s address.  Derek quickly copies it into Google Maps and slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and races down to the garage, picking out the least ostentatious car they have (which is, ugh, a _Lexus_ ) and speeding off on the nearly seven and a half hour drive, before he can convince himself that this is a terrible idea.

* * *

 

By the time he realizes it is indeed an incredibly dumb idea, Derek is sitting in Dex’s driveway.  He’s half considering simply turning around and leaving, so he can pretend that he was chiller than driving to Maine without hesitation, but by now it’s 8:30 at night, and he just drove seven and a half hours.  In other words, he’s not chiller than this, and he’s in _way_ too deep turn back now.

 

Derek stares at the Poindexter’s house as he attempts to find the nerve to step out of his car and knock on the front door.  The house itself is a small, one story structure, with a dirty white siding and shingling on the roof that appears to be on its last legs.  It’s hard to make out in the waning evening light, but it looks like parts of the roof are covered with tarp.  The house doesn’t have a porch, just a small concrete slab in front of the entrance in the building, and there’s a window on either side of the front door, with faded black shutters and long-dead bushes in the ground underneath them.

 

The whole building appears dilapidated, like it’s barely standing, barely being held together, and in an instant, Derek understands how and why Dex learned his handyman skills that have been so useful around the Haus.  Such skills were definitely needed to hold a place like this together.

 

And it’s small.  Man, does Dex’s house look _tiny_.  Dex has three brothers and sister, and even though they’re all at least ten years older than him, there was still a point where this house—this miniscule residence—had to somehow hold seven people in it, and Derek just doesn’t see how it _could_ , though he’ll be the first to admit that his perspective is skewed.  He lives in a—well, and an almost-mansion that like, _fifteen_ people could comfortably live in.  Certainly, it’s more than enough space for three.  They can all be in the house at the same time for weeks on end, and never see each other.

 

But seeing this, the place where Dex likely grew up—it suddenly puts a lot of things Derek knows about Dex into a different context.

 

It takes Derek almost fifteen minutes to gather his courage and step out of the car.  He pulls his bag out of the back seat and tosses the strap over his shoulder.  He shuffles up to the front door, taking a deep breath before he harshly raps his knuckles on it.  A minute passes with no response, so Derek tries the doorbell.  When a few persistent presses, the tinny sound of a recording of a bell echoing off the walls inside the house, brings Derek no answer, Derek shrugs and turns back towards his car.  He can find a hotel or something and drive back to New York in the morning.

 

He’s about to step off the porch, such as it is, when he hears the door open behind him.

 

“Nursey, what the _fuck_?” Dex says sharply, and _jeez_ , why is Derek so irrationally please to hear Dex snapping at him angrily?  When did he get this far gone on Dex?

 

Derek wipes the stupid grin off his face and settles an easy smirk into its place before he turns back around.  “It’s good to see you too Dex,” he replies coolly, sticking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.

 

Dex is hunched over, hand on his back, leaning against the doorframe like he needs it to stay upright.  “I thought I told you not to come,” Dex hisses through gritted teeth.

 

And that’s totally not true.  Derek checked (he was halfway to Maine when he did, but he _did_ check).  “Nah man, you just said I didn’t _need_ to come,” Derek answers, shrugging.

 

“And you—you took that to mean that I wanted you to come anyway?” Dex scowls, and he sounds furious, but there’s something… _off_.  Derek has no idea what, but it doesn’t feel the same as when Dex usually gets angry at him.

 

“No,” Derek says, brushing the thought off as he arches an eyebrow at Dex.  “I took it to mean that you were hurt worse than you were willing to admit.  And it looks like I was right.”

 

“How—why would you even think that?” Dex asks, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening as his face starts to flush.

 

“Seriously man?” Derek says, shaking his head.  “You think I didn’t learn a thing or two about you when we spent like—I don’t know, 90% of spring semester together?”

 

Dex’s blush deepens.  “No, I know you did, I’m just—”

 

“Too much of a stubborn ass to ask for help?” Derek finishes, narrowing his eyes on Dex pointedly.

 

“Well—”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought bro.  That’s like, the first thing I figured out about you,” Derek chuckles, smacking Dex on the bicep.  “Now, are you gonna let me in or not?”

 

“I— _fine_ ,” Dex huffs, stepping back and sweeping an arm towards the interior to direct Derek inside.  The front door goes directly into the living room, which consists of a couch that looks almost as nasty as the green one in the Haus, a worn out brown armchair, a beat-up coffee table, and a TV.  Derek stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, nervously playing with the strap of his bag.  “You know, you’re a bit stubborn too,” Dex grumbles, limping past Derek to the couch, depositing himself in the nest that he’s already made.

 

“Never said I wasn’t,” Derek answers.  He’s blushing a little as he watches Dex settle into the pile of blankets kind of in a way that reminds Derek of Charlie, his childhood black lab.  Thank God his dark complexion hides all but his worst blushes.

 

Dex eyes his bag, hanging off of Derek’s shoulder, and sighs.  “My siblings have kinda turned most of the bedrooms into storage so like…mine and my parents’ are the only ones that aren’t completely trashed.”

 

“Okay, so you want me to like, take the couch?” Derek inquires, because obviously, with his back, Dex is sleeping in his own bed, and it’s like, a general rule that the master bedroom is _always_ off-limits.

 

“No,” Dex says, shaking his head.  “But I don’t know where you’re going to sleep right now so just…drop your bag in my room and I’ll figure it out later.”

 

“’Kay man, that’s chill,” Derek replies, and Dex groans and rolls his eyes.  Derek briefly thinks that it’s a sign of just how far they’ve come, that chill only exasperates Dex, as opposed to making him furious.

 

“Hey, this is my house.  The word _chill_ is off-limits man,” Dex quips, still in the middle of rolling his eyes.

 

“Oh?  And just how do you plan to enforce that?” Derek shoots back, and _whoa_ , did his tone make that come out sounding suggestive.  He needs to _chill_.

 

Dex notices, and he blushes as he says, “I’ll just kick you out.”

 

“Fair enough,” Derek says, eager to move past the unwarranted slip of his tongue.  “So your room is…?”

 

“Down the hall, second door on the right.”

 

Derek quickly goes down the hall, merely sticking his head into Dex’s room long enough to let his bag hit the floor with a heavy thud before he walks out and plops down on the couch.  It jostles the other boy, and Dex ends up slightly listing towards him, their shoulders resting up against each other.  Dex makes no attempt to move away though, and Derek tries not to think about how the contact makes his whole body crackle like a live wire.

 

“So man, tell me, what did you do, exactly?” Derek asks as a distraction.  It’s a distraction, but he’s also really curious, because it’s _fishing_.  How in the world do you hurt yourself while  _fishing_?

 

“I just did something stupid,” Dex answers, his hands idly fiddling with the TV remote.

 

“Well there’s a real shocker,” Derek chirps, using the back of his hand to lightly, playfully smack the outside of Dex’s thigh.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Dex mumbles, and Derek laughs.

 

“Okay, but seriously, what happened?”

 

“You’ve never been on a fishing boat,” Dex answers, shrugging and shaking them both.  “You wouldn’t understand, even if I told you.”

 

“Dude, I’ve like, seen _The Deadliest Catch_ and shit.  I think I have an idea,” Derek argues.

 

Dex turns his head, peering at him wide-eyed for a second before he completely loses it.  _“Dude,”_ Dex says, laughing so hard he’s struggling for breath.  “That’s Alaskan crab fishing.”

 

Derek wrinkles his nose up in confusion.  “There’s a difference?”

 

“ _There’s a difference?_ ” Dex mimics, giggling.  “Yeah, of course there is!  Fishing off the Cape is nothing like that.”

 

“Oh,” Derek says, trying to frown and having a hard time, because Dex is smiling and laughing, and that makes Derek want to do the same.

 

“I swear, if we were doing that kinda shit, I wouldn’t go anywhere near the boat,” Dex remarks, heaving a deep breath as he finally stops guffawing.  “Like bro, the shit they do on that show is _scary_.”

 

Derek nods.  “Yeah, it is.  But you gotta admit, it makes for good TV.”

 

“Sure does.”

 

“Hey bro, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Dex questions, a half-grin on his face, and Derek grins back because they’re clearly on the same wavelength here.

 

“ _Deadliest Catch_ marathon!” they both exclaim at the same time, high-fiving each other, and the moment is freakishly similar to what Ransom and Holster do, and that makes Derek feel warm and bubbly inside.

* * *

 

Their “marathon” ends up lasting less than two episodes.  After the first episode finishes, Derek notices that Dex’s eyelids are starting to droop.

 

“Hey man, are you gonna be good for another episode?” Derek wonders.  If Dex is going to fall asleep, doing that on the couch is probably the worst possible place for him to do it.

 

Dex lets out a long, loud yawn.  “What?  Oh yeah, I’m good.”

 

Dex has the remote, and clicks to the next episode before Derek can push the matter any further, so he shrugs and turns his attention back to the TV.

 

About ten minutes later, Derek feels a weight suddenly settle on his shoulder.  Derek turns his head and, sure enough, Dex has fallen asleep, his head lolling over to rest on Derek’s shoulder.

 

 _It’s classic Dex, to say that he’s good to go when he’s really not_ , Derek thinks, chuckling quietly to himself as he puts an arm around the other boy.

 

Derek tries to turn his attention back to the episode playing on the TV screen, but the warm line of Dex’s body leaning up against his is proving to be a distraction Derek can’t ignore.

 

Derek turns to look at the other boy, observing him quietly.  There’s always a hard line to Dex’s shoulders, a furrow to his brow, a squint to his eyes, and a wrinkle to his nose.  Dex is always so tense, always looking like he’s ready for a fight, always seeming like he’s wait for the next blow to land.  But he’s not like that now.  Derek has never seen him quite this relaxed, where his shoulders have fallen from their normal place up near his jaw, where his face is smoothed out and calm.  It’s—well, Derek wishes Dex looked like this more often, when he's awake.

 

Belatedly, Derek realizes he’s started running his hand through Dex’s thick, auburn hair and—he’s making this moment weird.  He really, desperately needs to find his chill.  Derek turns back to the episode, letting his arm drop so that it’s limply curled around the sleeping boy.  He’ll just watch the end of this episode, and when it’s over, he’ll wake Dex up so he can move him to the bed.

* * *

 

Next thing Derek knows, he’s being roused from sleep by the light streaming through the windows of the Poindexter’s living room.  He rubs at his eyes, willing himself more awake when he realizes— _shit_ , it’s morning and they slept the _whole night_ on the couch.

 

Derek feels Dex start to stir, and he sits stock-still as the other boy begins to wake up.  Dex sits up, and his eyes fly open as he inhales sharply.

 

 _“Fuck,”_ he mutters.

 

Derek feels a giant pang of guilt and regret in his chest when he sees the pained look on Dex’s face.  Right now Dex doesn’t even seem to register that he’s there, and Derek doesn’t want to bring attention to himself, to draw Dex’s ire, but it’s going to happen eventually.  There’s only so long he can put it off.  “M-morning,” Derek stutters hesitantly.

 

Dex’s head whips around to glare at him, setting his jaw as fiery anger begins to show in his eyes, mixing with the pain writ on his face.  “What the _fuck_ Nurse?”

 

Derek swallows.  “Uh…”

 

“Why the fuck did you let me sleep on the couch?” Dex snarls in fury.

 

It takes Derek a second, but he gets his footing back and fires back at Dex argumentatively, because that’s what he does when Dex is angry, regardless of whether his anger his directed at him or not, regardless of whether his anger is justified or not.  “I didn’t let you sleep on the couch.  You fell asleep after I asked you if you were okay to watch another episode and _you said yes_.”

 

“Oh, I see, so you believed me then, but not before!” Dex yells, making Derek lean back away from him slightly.

 

“Nope, I didn’t believe you then either, I just let it slide because it wasn’t worth it man,” Derek retorts, because it wasn’t.  Attempting to challenge Dex on whether he was tired or not would’ve been pointless; it would’ve simply exploded into a serious argument, something that Derek was growing to loathe doing with Dex.  Playful arguments where they weren’t really mad at each other were fine, but he hated it when they got mad each other anymore.

 

 _“It wasn’t worth it?”_ Dex asks incredulously.  “So what you’re saying is that letting me wake up in more pain was somehow more worth it?”

 

“No, of course not.  I—”

 

“Then why didn’t you wake me up?  You know what, never mind.  It doesn’t matter,” Dex spits out bitterly.  “Thanks for coming here and making it worse, but you can get the fuck out now,” he finishes, pointing to the door before standing up and hobbling out towards the bathroom.

 

Shit, he’s fucked up.  He’s fucked up so badly.  And it’s not that it’s really a surprise, because Derek just really fucks most everything up, but he had hoped that for once, he could do this right.  But he couldn’t; he was supposed to be helping Dex, and he just made it worse.

 

But his dilemma is that if Dex is worse, that means he literally cannot go, whether Dex told him to go or not, but he can’t stay if he doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing, if he’s going to continue to make things worse, so he calls Lardo in a panic, hoping that she’ll know what to do.

 

“Derek Nurse, you better have a _damn_ good reason for calling me at 9:00 AM on a day in the middle of the summer,” Lardo grumbles when she answers his call.

 

“How are you supposed to treat a back strain?” Derek asks, the words coming out in an alarmed rush.

 

“I—Nursey, are you fucking _kidding_ me?” Lardo groans.

 

“No,” Derek sighs, harshly rubbing his forehead as he squeezes his eyes shut.

 

Lardo exhales loudly.  “You mean to tell me that you didn’t bother to look up how to take care of Dex?  You just rushed up there?”

 

“Uh,” Derek utters, and God, for being an English major, sometimes he’s just _sooo_ eloquent.

 

“Of course you didn’t.  Silly me, why would I bother with thinking you would?” Lardo mutters, mostly to herself.  “Heat and painkillers Nursey.  That’s about all you can do.”

 

“Seriously?” Derek questions, because for real, that’s all he has to do?  _That’s_ what he fucked up?

 

“Yeah.  And don’t let him hunch over too much.  Keep him standing up straight, and make sure that he’s sitting up straight or lying down flat if he’s not standing,” she adds. 

 

“Oh, okay,” Derek says, and _jeez_ , he could’ve figured most of that out himself if he had just stopped to think.  But he didn’t because—because he’s an idiot—not that that’s news to him.

 

“Why are you even asking now?  You’ve already been there for a day?” Lardo questions interrogatively.

 

“I uh—we sorta like—accidentally fell asleep on the couch?  And that—”

 

“Made it worse, yeah, of course it did,” Lardo chides, and Derek can easily picture the way she’s shaking her head at him.  “Jesus Christ Nursey, you’re a dumbass.”

 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Derek mumbles.  “Thanks for the help though.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” she responds dismissively.  “Just stop with the whole ‘too busy being a lovesick puppy’ shit and actually help him, ‘kay?” she adds, and then immediately hangs up, leaving Derek blushing furiously on the couch as Dex walks back into the living room.

 

“Why are you still here?” Dex inquires venomously.  Derek ignores the belligerent tone to his voice and leaps to his feet, pushing Dex towards the couch that he just vacated.

 

“Lay down,” Derek orders firmly.

 

“What are you doing?” Dex questions, looking down at the couch’s cushions skeptically as Derek continues to nudge him towards them.

 

“I’m taking care of you, like I’m supposed to be doing,” Derek answers simply.

 

A flash of trepidation crosses Dex’s face.  “Nuh-uh, no, do not _even_ ,” he protests vigorously.  “You made it _worse_ , what makes you think I’m going to trust you now?”

 

Derek sighs.  It’s a fair question.

 

“Because…man, last night was an accident, okay?  I was totally going to get you up once the second episode finished but I just—I didn’t know I was falling asleep too.  I mean, c’mon Dex, I’m not stupid.  I didn’t do that on purpose, like, it’s not like I _want_ you to get hurt worse.  Like _shit_ man, practice starts in like two weeks, and I don’t want you to still be out of commission by then, like you will be if you don’t let me help you.”

 

“It’s not that b—”

 

“Do not even try to pull that shit,” Derek interrupts, irritation at Dex flaring up.  “I’m not going to buy any of this ‘it’s not that bad’ crap because you were literally yelling at me not five minutes ago because your back hurt so much!”

 

Dex straightens up like he’s posturing himself to argue with Derek, but he ends up doubling over, breathing heavily as what seems to be a twinge of pain hits him.  Derek seizes the moment where Dex is incapacitated, guiding over to the couch and forcing him to lie down on it.

 

“Don’t move,” Derek warns, heading for the bathroom in search of an electric hot pad and painkillers.  He finds them pretty easily, which is a good thing, because if he had had to ask Dex where they were, he would’ve most certainly gotten up to get them himself.

 

“Lie down on that for a while,” he instructs, holding the hot pad out for Dex to take once he plugs it in and turns it on.

 

“But it’s uncomfortable,” Dex whines, complaining as he shoves it back towards Derek.

 

“Tough,” Derek says unsympathetically.  “Use it anyway.”

 

Dex huffs, but nonetheless yanks it out of Derek’s hand and gingerly adjusts himself so that when he’s lying down, the hot pad is on his lower back.

 

Derek nods approvingly.  “So, where is your kitchen?”

 

“Um, why?” Dex replies hesitantly.

 

“I’m hungry, and we could both use some breakfast,” Derek shrugs nonchalantly.

 

Dex honestly looks frightened by the prospect of Derek attempting to cook, but he still points Derek in the right direction.  Derek enters the kitchen, glancing around confidently, because making something for breakfast can’t be that hard, right?  If seems pretty easy when Bitty does it.

* * *

 

Nearly an hour and a half later, Derek has come to the conclusion that Bitty simply makes it _look_ easy, because so far nothing that he’s tried to do has been easy.  He’s covered in flour, there’s batter splattered on the walls, there’s a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink, and there’s thick, black smoke billowing from a pan on the stove.

 

Apparently, he’s completely incompetent in the kitchen, just like he’s incompetent at everything that isn’t poetry and hockey.  He needs help from someone who’s not, someone who’s a master in the kitchen.  And he knows who that is, but Derek knows that he’s going to be severely disappointed in him, but he swallows his pride, because he clearly needs professional help.

 

 **_Nursey:_ ** _…Bits_

 **_Nursey:_ ** _Are you available to skype?_

**_Bitty:_ ** _Uh_

 **_Bitty:_ ** _Yes_

 **_Bitty:_ ** _Why?_

 

It’ll be useless for Derek to try and explain in words, so he taps on Bitty’s icon in the Skype app, bracing himself for the lashing he’s going to get for the damage he’s caused to the Poindexter’s kitchen.

 

“Nursey?” Bitty says when he answers, and Derek grimaces.  “Sweetheart, what’s the emergency?”

 

Derek wordlessly turns his phone around to show Bitty the disaster area that he’s turned the kitchen into.

 

“Oh good _Lord_ ,” he hears Bitty gasp.  “Derek Nurse, what in God’s name did you do to that poor, innocent kitchen?”

 

“I uh…” Derek replies, scratching the back of his neck, his stomach tight at the look of dismay he’s receiving.  “I was just trying to…make breakfast?”

 

“Oh _honey_ ,” Bitty sighs, shaking his head.  “I ain’t sure what you were tryin’ to make buy—”

 

“Pancakes,” Derek mumbles in response.

 

“Those ain’t even that hard,” Bitty says, sounding stunned, and then a second later…oh God, there’s the disappointment, and Derek sort of wants to be swallowed up by the floor rather than have that look directed at him for any longer.  “How did you mess up that badly?”

 

“I don’t know,” Derek shrugs, because it seemed like one minute, everything was fine, and the next it was—well, _that_.

 

“DEAR GOD NURSE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?” Derek hears Dex shout from the living room.  He hasn’t set off the smoke alarm yet, but there’s a pungent odor emanating from the smoking pan and it was only a matter of time before Dex noticed it.

 

“Is that Dex?” Bitty asks, disappointment giving way to confusion, thank fuck.

 

“YOU BETTER NOT BE GETTING UP POINDEXTER,” is what Derek yells back, rather than answering Bitty.

 

“I’m takin’ that as a yes,” Bitty says when Derek turns his attention back to the Skype call.  “Can I ask why?”

 

“He’s an idiot and strained his back on the boat,” Derek explains with a sigh.

 

“I see,” Bitty says, scratching his chin.  “And you’re with him because—”

 

“I—holy _fuck._    _Derek_ ,” Dex gapes as he enters the kitchen and surveys the scene that’s unfolding.

 

“Huh, Derek,” Bitty hums, a curious look on his face.  “That’s new.”

 

Dex’s head turns at the sound of Bitty’s voice coming from Derek’s phone.  “Oh thank God,” Dex exhales, appearing in frame just over Derek’s shoulder.  “Bitty, you _have_ to help me.  I think Nursey is trying to kill me!”

 

“I am not!” Derek protests.  “And I thought I told you not to get up.”

 

Dex scoffs.  “Yeah, like I’m going to stay out there while you burn my parents’ house down.  Besides, I’ve been lying on that thing for an hour and a half.  I feel way better now.”

 

“Still, more heat isn’t going to hurt you…I think,” Derek responds.  He’s not sure that staying on the hot pad for longer won’t hurt Dex but—even if it did, how much harm could a little extra heat do?

 

“You _think_?” Dex quips doubtfully.  “Shit Nursey, for someone who’s last name is _Nurse_ , you sure do suck at being one.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes.  “Har har,” he fakes a laugh.  “Look, just go lay back down.  I had this mostly under control.  I just needed a little bit of help.”

 

There’s a moment where the room falls silent, and he can feel both Bitty and Dex’s eyes on him, examining him dubiously before they both burst into laughter.

 

“You call this ‘mostly under control’?” Dex chuckles, smacking Derek on the back before he slings an arm around his shoulders.

 

 _“Oh honey,”_ Bitty giggles.

 

Derek crosses his free arm across his chest and pouts.  “You’re laughing at me.”

 

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Bitty says, wiping away a tear from his eye.

 

“It’s just—if this is what ‘under control’ looks like, I don’t want to see the alternative,” Dex adds, leaning on Derek for support as he continues to chortle uncontrollably.

 

And he has a point.  Derek doesn’t really want to see that either.  “So um, Bitty…will you—” Derek starts, because that was the point to calling Bitty in the first place.

 

“Yes, I’ll help y’all, for Dex’s sake,” Bitty smiles and shakes his head.

 

“Thanks Bits,” Dex says, and Derek likes the way that he’s still leaning on him, even though Dex has stopped laughing.

 

“But first of all, y’all are gonna have to clean up this mess,” Bitty adds sternly, in an almost-motherly tone.

 

“And I think that’s my cue to—”

 

“Nope, you got up, so now you’re going to help,” Derek says, catching Dex’s arm before he can withdraw it and exit the kitchen.

 

“But Nurseyyyyyyyyyy,” Dex whines, and Derek shakes his head and points to the counter.

 

“Don’t even,” Derek says, grinning slightly.  He won’t have Dex do anything particularly strenuous, but he can help, since he said himself he was feeling a lot better.

 

 _“Fine,”_ Dex huffs, shuffling over to the counter resignedly.  Bitty makes a questioning noise that Derek doesn’t notice.

 

“You won’t be much help to us now,” Derek comments, turning back to Bitty.  “We’ll call back after we’re done cleaning up.”

 

Bitty nods and hangs up, and Derek pockets his phone and strides over to join Dex at the counter.

* * *

 

Once they’re done cleaning up, they call Bitty back on Dex’s laptop, and he guides them step by step through making the pancakes.  They turn out great, but that’s probably because Dex did most of the work, carefully following Bitty’s guidance.  Derek just tried to stay mostly out of the way and help where/when he could.

 

They’ve long since finished cooking and eating, but they’re still on Skype, catching up with Bitty because Dex hasn’t talked to him much all summer…and come to think of it, other than a few stray texts, Derek hasn’t talked to Bitty much either.

 

Bitty’s currently regaling them with a tale about the “pie-judging scandal” that took place at the Morgan County fair.  As best Derek can follow, Bitty still took first place, but some woman named Margaret took second place with “quite possibly the worst pecan pie I have ever seen and tasted,” simply because her husband was on the judging committee.  Apparently, she was supposed to get first place, but none of the other judges could be convinced once they had a taste of Bitty’s maple-crusted apple pie.

 

“Madison was in an uproar over that for nearly a week, I swear,” Bitty says as a door opens and slams shut.

 

“Vlogging again, eh Bitty?” Derek hears someone ask off-camera, and that—that’s definitely Jack; no one else any of them know actually says “eh,” not even fellow Canadian Ransom—but what is Jack doing at Bitty’s house (or vice-versa)?  And since when does Jack call him _Bitty_ , and not _Bittle_?

 

Jack’s torso comes into view, and he suddenly dips down, leaning over and kissing Bitty on the cheek.

 

_Wait, **what**?_

 

Derek quickly turns to Dex, whose eyes are transfixed on the laptop screen as his mouth hangs open.  Bitty is turned to look at Jack, who has disappeared out of frame almost as rapidly as he appeared, his jaw flapping as he struggles to find something to say to Jack, so Derek lightly taps on Dex’s shoulder.

 

 _“What was that?”_ he mouths.

 

Dex shrugs, looking just as perplexed as Derek feels.  _“No idea,”_ he mouths back.

 

_“But you saw that too, right?”_

 

Dex nods.

 

Bitty has finally come up with the right words and starts to stutter.  “Uhhh, n-no, darling, I’m not…vlogging,” he replies, blushing furiously.  “I was just um…I’m on Skype with Nursey and Dex, sweetheart.”

 

“Oh,” Jack says quietly.  He comes back into view, standing behind Bitty.  He wraps his arms around Bitty’s middle, dropping his chin onto Bitty’s shoulder.  “Hey guys.”

 

Both Derek and Dex are speechless, stunned by this sudden revelation about Jack and Bitty, and they stare at the screen with dumbfounded looks.

 

Bitty sighs and shakes his head.  “Oh Jack, honey, look at what you did to those poor boys.  You broke them.”

 

“They’re just a little surprised, eh?” Jack remarks, gently nuzzling his head against Bitty’s.

 

“I have to say darling that I’m with them,” Bitty responds, his hands settling on top of Jack’s.

 

Jack subtly shrugs his shoulders.  “It’s just Dex and Nursey.  I mean, I thought we were going to tell the Samwell guys.”

 

“Of course we were goin’ to sweetheart,” Bitty answers, twisting his head around so he can see Jack’s face.  “I just didn’t think it was goin’ to be so soon.”

 

“Kinda hard to explain away what they saw,” Jack replies.  “Besides, I think they’ll understand.”

 

“Understand what?” Dex blurts out, saying what Derek is thinking.

 

Bitty flushes again.  “Jack is—he’s my boyfriend,” he mumbles, and—well, Bitty is happy 99% of the time, but Derek has never seen Bitty grin this widely before.

 

Derek clears his throat and shakes the cobwebs out of his head, because this is like, a big step, and one of them should probably say something.  “Uh, congrats man,” he says.

 

Derek wonders what signs there were that Jack and Bitty were into each other, because this news is completely out of left field.  How was he on a team with them for a _year_ and didn’t manage to pick up a single hint about their apparent feelings for each other?  At the same time he’s wondering this, he notices that Bitty is wearing Jack’s shirt—well, he can’t know for sure, but it has to be Jack’s shirt, because it’s much too big for Bitty and forget the signs from the last year, how the fuck did he not notice that earlier in the Skype call?

 

“Thanks,” both Jack and Bitty reply at the same time.  Bitty is still blushing, and Jack is grinning, and he looks both immensely happy and quite pleased with himself at the same time.

 

“And I’m sure you both realize this, but this can’t get out beyond other members of the Samwell team,” Jack adds sternly, his captain’s voice not a bit rusty despite him not likely using it all summer.

 

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Dex stammers, and Derek nods in agreement.

 

“Good,” Jack says.  “So, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you two together?”

 

“Oh, Dex hurt himself,” Derek explains quickly.  “So I um, I drove up here to make sure he was taken care of.  Y’know, make sure he rests so he’s ready when practice starts.”

 

Jack hums approvingly.

 

“It was nothing serious,” Dex shrugs, and Derek fights the urge to roll his eyes.  Why does he keep insisting it wasn’t that bad when it clearly was?  “I would’ve been fine.”

 

Derek watches as Bitty, who had just watched Dex move easily around the kitchen as they made breakfast, raises an eyebrow skeptically.  “I guess you weren’t the only one who made up an excuse to get your boyfriend to visit,” he comments quietly, turning to catch Jack’s eye.

 

“I didn’t have to give you much of an excuse, eh?” Jack grins.  “You made most of the excuses up yourself.”

 

“Well tell me, what was I supposed to do when you kept sending me texts like _I miss you_ and _my apartment feels empty and lonely without you_ and _I haven’t even used the kitchen yet_?” Bitty giggles.

 

“Of course it was the one about the kitchen that got you up here,” Jack smirks wickedly.  “That’s all I had to do to get you to come running, eh?”

 

“I admit to _nothin’_ , Mr. Zimmermann—”

 

Dex’s brain finally catches up with what’s been said, and he shouts, interrupting Bitty. “Wait, you think we’re— _what_?!” he remarks incredulously.  In the meantime, Derek is too busy choking on his own spit to add anything.

 

“But after last semester I thought y’all were—and then Nursey drove to—”

 

Jack clears his throat over Bitty’s stammering.  “Um, I think I’m going to go take a shower,” he says, nuzzling Bitty’s neck.

 

“You know what I think I’ll join you see y’all later bye!” Bitty says in a rush, and then the call ends.

 

Derek glances over at Dex, whose blush is at least three shades a darker red than Derek has ever seen it.

 

“So um, breakfast was good,” Derek says, scratching the back of his neck as he stares down at the floor.

 

“I uh—yeah, I guess it was,” Dex mumbles, not looking at Derek as he answers.

 

Dex’s laptop dings into the awkward silence that’s fallen over them, indicating that Dex is receiving another Skype call, this one from Chowder.  Dex peeks up at it, but makes no move to accept it, so Derek does it for him.

 

“H-hey C,” Derek says when he answers, his voice unsteady.

 

“OMG!!!  Bitty already told me but I had to check for myself!” Chowder says, vibrating excitedly.  He’s shaking whatever he’s using as a camera, and his head bobs in and out of frame.  “I can’t believe you guys are actually together!”

 

“I—I’m in Maine, yeah,” Derek replies weakly.  He’s not sure how much Bitty told Chowder, and how much Chowder assumed on his own, so he’s not going to clarify anything until he knows what Chowder thinks they’re doing.

 

“So what are you guys going to do while you’re there?  Are you going sightseeing?  OH!  I know, you guys should go on a picnic date to the beach!  That would be totally romantic and ‘swawesome you know Caitlin is visiting in a week and I think I’m going to do the same thing—”

 

“Whoa C, calm down,” Derek says, rubbing harshly at his eyes.

 

“Yeah.  I—I don’t know what Bitty told you, but we’re—we’re not.” Dex stammers.  He’s not looking at the screen and he’s not looking at Derek, rather he’s looking at some spot on the floor, to his right, sweeping his gaze in the opposite direction from Derek.

 

“Whatever it is he said, Dex really did hurt himself,” Derek sighs, slumping back in his chair.  “I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself worse.”

 

“Oh, so you just can’t really go anywhere?  Well that’s cool, there are plenty of romantic things you can do at home or wherever I mean some of my best dates have just been me and Caitlin hanging out somewhere—”

 

“No, Chowder, you’re not getting it,” Dex exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Nursey and I are not dating.”

 

“You’re not?” Chowder frowns, his eyes flitting back and forth between them.

 

“No,” they both respond simultaneously.

 

“But I thought Bitty said—” Chowder begins to protest.

 

“Bitty assumed,” Derek shrugs, though Derek has no idea where the assumption came from.

 

“But last semester,” Chowder splutters.  “You—you were flirting all the time—and I thought—”

 

“Who says flirting has to go anywhere,” Derek answers quickly.  Because yes he was flirting, and Dex often gave back as good as he got, but it never went anywhere.  Dex didn’t mean anything by it, except that he probably played along because it was fun.

 

“I—oh,” Chowder says, his face falling.  “I’m sorry guys.”

 

“It’s fine Chowder,” Dex murmurs.

 

“Yeah, it’s chill man,” Derek says, and it says a lot about this situation that Dex doesn’t groan or tell him off for using it.

 

“Okay…well, I’m just gonna…” Chowder says, trailing off.

 

Derek nods.  “Yeah, talk to you later C.”

 

Chowder hangs up, leaving him and Dex sitting in the uncomfortably quiet kitchen.

 

“That was uh, that was kinda funny,” Derek chuckles nervously, breaking the silence before it can make him lose his chill.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Dex mutters, his face still the same dark shade of maroon that it was before Chowder called.

 

“Like, I can’t believe that Chowder, Bitty, _and_ Jack all thought we were…”

 

Derek’s sentence fades out, because he has no idea where he was going with that.  He’s met by awkward silence, and they end up in an almost ten minute standoff over who’s going to break it first.  In the end, it’s Dex, but Derek was actually pretty close too.

 

“I uh…I’m gonna…heat pad…you know,” Dex says, almost inaudibly as he gestures back to the living room.

 

“I’ll—” Derek starts, standing up so fast that he knocks over the chair he was sitting in.  “Let me help,” he says, fixing the chair.  He’s still here for a reason, and even if it’s awkward, he’s going to do his job.  They don’t have to talk much for this to work.

* * *

 

It isn’t until late in the evening that Dex actually says something.  He’s just finished up soaking in the bath after Derek had insisted on drawing one, cause like sitting in hot water is good for relaxing the muscles.  Derek’s in Dex’s room, helping him get situated in bed.

 

“That was—the bath was really nice,” Dex murmurs.

 

Derek is startled, because they haven’t said anything since the Skype calls this morning, and he simply expected that to continue indefinitely.  “Oh.  Well.  That’s good.  Man,” Derek replies.  He winces, because his tone is all off, stilted and awkward.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve been quiet since—y’know,” Dex says as he lies down on the bed, folding his hands on his chest.  “I’ve just been trying to think about some stuff.”

 

“It’s chill man,” Derek shrugs, plugging in the hot pad and handing it to Dex.  He’s not going to sleep with it on all night, because Derek is going to come in in about an hour and unplug it, but it’ll be good for him at least to start with.  “What all the guys said was totally unexpected and I get it,” he adds.

 

Dex snorts and sits up, shaking his head.  “Oh that?  You think that’s what this is about?”

 

“Well…yeah.”

 

“No man, that was totally fine,” Dex replies.  “I mean, it’s pretty easy to see how they might think that.”

 

Derek swallows.  _Shit_.  He does not like the direction this conversation seems to be going.

 

“What do you mean?” he answers carefully, not wanting to give anything away, but that’s hard when his chill is suddenly nowhere to be found.

 

“It’s just—you came here with almost no hesitation at all, and you’ve been trying to take care of me, even though you and I both know you’re terrible at it,” Dex points out, and Derek’s face suddenly feels very hot.  “That uh, that definitely comes out looking a certain kind of way, don’t you think?”

 

“I…no, I don’t know,” Derek says, playing dumb in an attempt to save face in this situation.  He’s almost certainly busted, but he’s going to deny it for as long as he can.

 

“Derek.  Why did you come here,” Dex inquires, looking up at Derek with a smug, knowing expression.  “What was the real reason you drove here seven and a half hours from New York?”

 

“I…I just wanted you to…you’re my partner Dex.  I need you to be 100%,” Derek mumbles, intently studying the patterns in the shag carpet beneath his feet so he doesn’t have to look Dex in the eye.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Dex says, and Derek can hear the shit-eating grin, even if he won’t look Dex in the face to see it.  “But I know that’s not all there is to it.”

 

Derek is standing about a foot away from the side of Dex’s bed, and Dex stretches out and grabs one of his hands, pulling him closer so that his knees are knocking up against the mattress.  Derek has to change where he’s staring, because the current position of his head means that he’s staring right at Dex’s…well…

 

“C-can’t I just be—c-concerned about your well-being?” Derek stutters, and oh God, why can’t he find his chill because like, shit, now he’s utterly _fucked_.

 

“Yeah, of course you can,” Dex says, yanking on his arm and forcing Derek to sit down on the edge of the bed.  “But I know that you wouldn’t have done this for Chowder, or Bitty, or anyone else.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Derek protests feebly.

 

“Okay, so maybe I don’t.  But there is something else that I know, a secret that I have to tell you,” Dex whispers, leaning in a little bit closer to Derek.

 

Derek finally gives up and looks up at Dex, eyes wide.

 

“I know you know what my Twitter is.”

 

Fuck _fuck **fuck**_!

 

Dex must see the panic on Derek’s face, because he smirks in response, and good God, Derek doesn’t think his chill is ever going to return to him, at least not around Dex anymore.

 

“And I have another secret: I posted those tweets complaining about my back hoping that you would see them.”

 

“What?”

 

“I didn’t want to ask you to come because like, I have my pride, but I wanted you to come,” Dex continues, and his voice is confident, but his hand, still holding Derek’s is shuddering, and his face is a deep scarlet.  “So I thought that maybe, if I made those tweets, you’d ignore me and come anyway.”

 

“Why?” Derek barely chokes out, and he can’t breathe, frozen by disbelief over what Dex seems to be implying.

 

“It’s _August_ , Derek, and we’ve barely talked all summer.  I wanted you to come because—because I missed you,” Dex mumbles.

 

Their faces are so close that Derek can feel Dex’s breath ghosting on his skin and he’s not entirely sure how they ended up like this, but he likes it.  “I missed you too,” Derek murmurs.  “That’s—that’s why I’m really here.  I missed you.”

 

Dex’s eyes light up as his other hand comes up to cup Derek’s cheek, and Derek is gone, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to kiss Dex.

 

Dex’s lips are soft, if but a little chapped, and he kisses slowly, almost hesitantly, nothing like the fiery, aggressive passion Derek was expecting, but it feels exactly right.  Derek smiles and sighs, putting a hand on the back of Dex’s neck as he completely melts into the kiss.

 

Dex inhales sharply, and too late, Derek realizes he’s leaning much of his weight into Dex, putting undue strain on his back.  Derek breaks the kiss quick and pulls away.

 

“I’m sorry,” Derek says breathlessly.  He’s blushing hard, harder than his complexion can cover, and his entire body feels like it’s on fire.  He needs more of Dex, so much more.

 

Dex’s mouth is red and swollen, his pupils blown wide, and Derek feels his stomach flip as he realizes that Dex is feeling the same thing he’s feeling in this moment.

 

“It’s fine,” Dex gasps, grinning.  “I—I really don’t mind at all.”

 

“But I hurt your back— _again_ ,” Derek groans and God, why can’t he do anything right when it comes to taking care of Dex?

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Dex says, lying down and pulling on Derek’s arm, begging him to lie down with him.  Derek complies, and curls up into Dex’s arm snakes around him.  “You’re trying, and that’s good enough.”

 

“But I don’t want to _try_ , I want to do it _right_ ,” Derek huffs.

 

“I know,” Dex chuckles, squeezing Derek’s bicep.  “I have you _all_ figured out.”

 

“You do not,” Derek scoffs, because in his more than 19 years, not one person has figured him out yet.

 

“Yeah, I do.  You want everyone to think that you’re super chill and don’t care about _anything_ , but you care so goddamn much about _everything_ ,” Dex explains, a shy yet sly little smile on his face.

 

“You are literally the first person to realize that.”

 

“Well, you can fool a lot of people, but you’ve never been able to fool me,” Dex says.  “You, Derek Nurse, are not chill _at all_.”

 

“What you just said can never leave this room,” Derek says threateningly.

 

“Hey Derek… _chill_ ,” Dex says, tilting his head and capturing Derek’s lips in a kiss as Derek starts to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> So there might be another part to this, maybe? I had a few ideas for this fic that didn't make it into this part, so once I get a few other things written, I'll hopefully come back to this and write a second part incorporating those ideas that didn't make the first cut.
> 
> EDIT: I don't think a second part is likely to happen...I haven't written much recently, and while I'm hoping to get back to it soon, I've had time to think and I just don't believe I have enough to write a good second part to this...sorry y'all :(


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